


Sleeping With A Friend

by Siriusfanatic



Series: X-Men: Past, Present and Future [1]
Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bottom Logan, Depressingly Repressed Bisexual Scott Summers, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues, Suggested One-night stands, Time Travel, previous relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 17:10:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4067935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siriusfanatic/pseuds/Siriusfanatic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Logan hasn't been a member of the X-Men long, but he's already found more than a few ways to ostracize himself from the rest of the team. Hank McCoy doesn't pretend he understands everything Logan does; that isn't important. What matters is finding a way to cement a bond between the two of them that started back in 1973...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well boys and girls I'm back with more X-Men!  
> This is the first in a multi-story series my collaborator and I have been working on for awhile now, all of which ties into "Not All Who Wander Are Lost" and "Scars They Gave Us". 
> 
> This series follows the many trials and relationships of Wolverine, Gambit, Storm, Beast, Cyclops, Ice Man and multiple others, and will be heavy with explicit content that was established in other stories, as well as many poly-amorous themes and multiple sexual identities ranging anywhere from heterosexual to asexual and just about everything in between. If you've read my previously posted stuff, you also know that I deal with content that might be disturbing to some readings, including dubious consent, incest, emotional and physical abuse and rape. I will make sure I post trigger warnings on chapters that contain such material, but other than that, it's read at your own discretion. 
> 
> Also, although I feel I shouldn't need to say this cause it's listed in the tags and also just heavily implied; this is ALL alternate universe content. Like...none of this is canon, and while some canon events are mentions and dealt with, it's still in an alternative way. So for the hardcore comic fans...breathe. It's all good.

 

 

                Logan saw it coming from a mile away; but he couldn’t stop himself. He hadn’t learned how to dodge this sort of blow, though he was plenty used to taking it. It came every time he foolishly let himself take the chance.

                He had his hand on her arm, not forcefully, but firmly, and she was pulling away, wrenching out of his grasp with that look of scorn on her face, red hair flying. He could already taste the words before they left her lips;

                “Who do you think you are?!” Jean Grey demanded of him, voice wavering slightly, nervous and indignant more than it was angry. She wasn’t angry; she was _embarrassed_ and nervous. Nervous because of the man standing just behind her, who was watching her every move, expecting this response, counting on it. Nervous because of the man in front of her; who was making her insides burn with the look he was giving her; that bitter resigned look, with the eyes of a wounded animal.

                “The person who bailed you out,” Logan answered bluntly. “It was a close call, Jeanie. I did what I had to do.”

                “You could have killed that man!” The woman shouted at him. “You stabbed him, Logan!”

                “He was about to do the same to you! Should I have let him?!” Wolverine replied, glaring at the woman in front of him, oblivious to the gathering of their rest of their team as they recovered from the day’s latest skirmish; which had been a bunch of anti-mutant thugs causing a riot at one of the mutant friendly businesses in town. It had turned ugly quickly.

                “We had it handled,” Scott said suddenly from behind Jean. “There was no need for excessive force—“

                Logan’s eyes darted from Jean to Scott, darkening. “You try telling _them_ that, Summers! If it weren’t for my healing factor I’d be laid out too, and they damn near took off Bobby’s leg with one of their damn homemade grenades! These people are stupid and they’re _dangerous_ ; ya have to act accordingly!”

                “Not this way, Logan. We’re supposed to show them that we’re _not_ a threat--!”

                “Dammit, Jean, I’m not gonna let you get killed for some idealistic bullshit!” He shouted, finding himself almost shaking with the force of it. The woman pulled back her hand and belted him across the face, forcing his head to snap back.

                The team around them stirred in shock and Logan sensed someone approach him.

                “You’re an animal, Wolverine. And I’m _not_ yours to save.”

                “ _Jean.”_

                It was Hank’s voice that followed and Logan felt the bigger man put his thick hank on his shoulder to steady him. “That is _enough._ We need to get out of here,” He looked back to where Bobby, Kitty and Warren stood among the wreckage of the ruined storefront. Sirens were sounding as the police and emergency personal were responding.

                Scott drew Jean away as Hank did the same for Wolverine, the group quickly disappearing from the scene of the wreckage, lest they be apprehended by the authorities for the disturbance.

 

**

 

                Logan made himself scarce once they returned to Xavier’s. After a very long debriefing with the Professor himself, Hank went in search of the other mutant.

                Wolverine had not been part of the X-Men for very long, perhaps a month or so. He was still settling into the place, still getting to know their methods. It seemed very difficult for him, even though he had bonded with several members and students. Being part of a team didn’t seem to come natural to the man.

                But none of them _knew_ Logan the way Hank did. It was strange; serendipitous one might say. Hank had a relationship with Wolverine that went much farther back than his recent induction into the school…when the X-Men were a fledgling group of hopeful and ambitious rebels lead by a much younger, much less wise Charles Xavier. But this fact was kept relatively quiet between Logan, himself and the Professor, who remained the only three people among them who recalled the events of that time.

                Hank found Logan in the garage of the mansion, working on his bike. It was a beautiful vintage piece that Hank often admired, though he had never been one for such things. They felt a little too reckless and unsafe, much like the man who cared them so.

                Beast’s approach was virtually silent, but Logan was aware of him long before he got close; his senses picking up the Doctor’s familiar scent. But he waited until Hank got close to speak; “Whatt’dya want, Hank?” the man muttered, lifting the beer bottle next to him and taking a drink before returning to his work.

                “Only to check on you,” McCoy answered sincerely. “And to apologize.”

                Logan raised an eyebrow and cocked his head in the other mutant’s direction; “Fer what? Ya ain’t done nothin’ wrong.”

                “I wanted to apologize for Jean; and Scott too. What they said to you was thoughtless and hurtful. I just want you to know that the rest of us don’t feel that way.”

                “Don’t you?” Logan muttered. “Jeanie ain’t wrong about me, neither is Summers. I’m not a good fit for this place…it ain’t in me to be diplomatic about things when I got guys tryin’ ta beat my head in.” He leaned over on his stool, searching for another tool among the box; “But they’re just kids. They haven’t had to see what I have. Can’t expect ‘em to know any better.”

                “But I do.” Hank answered.

                Logan glanced back at him, face a little softer this time; “Yeah. I guess you do.” He smiled faintly, returning to his work. Yet Hank lingered, shifting subtly, nervously. Logan sighed heavily and put down his tools; “Was there something else?”

                Hank, normally eloquent and refined in his speech, seemed somewhat tense, even flustered then. It reminded Logan of his younger self, something he had almost forgotten and he smiled a little more. “Cat got yer tongue?”

                They heard the door then and looked up to see that Scott had joined them, looking ready to set out for a drive himself. Upon spotting the other two mutants in the garage he paused, gaze shifting from Hank’s large blue form to Logan’s shorter one.

                “Hey,” he said addressing Logan sharply; “Professor’s been looking for you. You completely missed the debriefing.”

                “Chuck wants me, he knows where to find me.” Logan answered gruffly, turning away from the man.

                Scott frowned; “It’s _Professor Xavier_ to you. What makes you think you have the right to act like he’s your old college buddy? You owe that man; _this team_ your life and your freedom, Wolverine, don’t be so quick to forget that.”

                Logan bristled but said nothing, at least not at first. Hank narrowed his gaze at Scott; “Perhaps things haven’t cooled as much as necessary to broach this subject, Scott.”

                The tall brunette ignored the man, continuing to move towards Logan. “Don’t ignore me, Wolverine.”

                Logan turned, claws presented, glaring at his so-called leader. “Ignoring you is the best thing I can do right now, Summers.”

                Scott rolled his eyes; “Really? You’re going to show those to _me_? What do you want next, a duel? You got put in your place; deal with it like a man.”

                The dark haired man snarled; “And what would you know about that? Your girlfriend’s not here to stoke your ego, so who ya tryin’ to impress?”

                “Fuck you, Logan.”

                “Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t ya?” Logan hissed, picking up his tool box and downing the last of his drink before discarding the bottle. “I don’t know which of you is more afraid of what you want, Scott. You or Jean.”

                The red of Scott’s visor gleamed a little more brilliantly and he stepped in front of Logan, baring his path. “You don’t care about what she wants. It’s all about you. What will make _you_ feel better. You’re selfish, and you run the moment you don’t get your way. What kind of man does that?”

                “What kind of man lets his girlfriend fight his battles? What kind of man hides behind her expectations rather than fess up to what he really is?”

                “I’m not like you.”

                “I know that. You don’t have the fuckin’ stomach for it.”

                Scott hit him, once in the jaw and once in the gut. Logan bellowed, dropping the tool box and started to swing forward, but Hank was suddenly between them, prying the both apart. He knocked Scott back against the wall and ended up wrapping Logan in both his arms, effectively restraining the snarling man.

                “Scott get the hell out of here!” Hank bellowed. “GO!”

                Cyclops hesitated for a moment then quickly left the garage, leaving him and Logan alone once more. Wolverine continued to struggle and howl until the man vanished and then Hank dropped him, letting him fall to all fours, panting.

                “It’s not worth it, Logan.”

                “Little bitch broke my nose.” Logan muttered, wiping blood from his face. The problem was already correcting itself, but that was beside the point. Hank bent down in front of him, offering the man a handkerchief from his pocket.

                Logan stared at it for a moment and then smirked; “What the hell? Nobody uses these anymore.”

                “It’s refined.” Hank chided, using it to carefully wipe the blood from Wolverine’s face. Logan let him, enjoying the feel of Hank’s big soft palm against his neck and jaw and steadied his face. He studied the man’s features, how they had become subtly feline while still retaining their humanity. He noted how thick Hank’s facial hair was, how brilliantly blue and soft, and the gold glint of his eyes. Logan remembered, distantly, when they were warm brown.

                “How do you do it, Beasty?”

                The Doctor glanced up at him, meeting his eyes. “Do what?”

                “Be the way you are…how do you do it when the world out there is so shitty and cold?”

                Hank smiled at him and Logan felt a little twinge of warmth in his chest. “I hold on to what’s good in the world. Human or mutant, we all possess compassion, empathy, love. Sometimes it’s hard to find, but if you know where to look…” He nervously adjusted his glasses. He stood then, extending a hand to help Wolverine to his feet and then cleared his throat.

                “Could I possibly tempt you into having a drink with me tonight?” he found himself asking then, looking at Logan with what he hoped was casual confidence and not the awkward nervousness he felt.

                The dark haired man eyed him for a moment and then smirked; “Sure, why not?”

                “Wonderful. Come to my room, shall we say eight o’clock?”

                Logan raised an eyebrow, a little surprised that Hank would extend an invitation there rather than simply head out on the town. But he nodded and the big blue-furred man grinned. “Excellent. I’ll be looking forward to it.”

               

**

 

                Later that evening Logan appeared at Hank’s door, carrying a six-pack of imported Canadian beer he’d brought back from his last trip up north. He wrapped on the door with his knuckles, shifting from one foot to another in a faintly nervous manner as he scratched the back his neck and fought the urge for a cigar.

                He was wearing a clean black t-shirt and his least worn-out pair of jeans. “Hey; Beasty! You in there?”

                The door opened a moment later and Hank appeared, dressed in a nice dress shirt and chino’s, looking very groomed and presentable.

“Logan! Right on time; so sorry to keep you waiting.” He beamed.

Wolverine blinked at him and tried to suppress the smile that was creeping across his lips; “Well…you clean up nice.”

                “So do you,” Hank nodded, ushering him inside.

                “Yeah well,” Logan snorted, “ye didn’t say anything about a dress code. Thought we were just staying in, having a few brews.” He looked further into Hank’s rooms, which were grander and more spacious than his own, having once been a study. Logan noticed that Hank had actually prepared a meal for him, and bought a bottle of sake. _Expensive_ sake from the look of the bottle.

                “I do hope you like sushi,” Hank said quickly, ushering the smaller man further inside and offering to take the case from his hand. “You’re rather mysterious when it comes to personal tastes other than beer, it took me sometime to learn from Bobby that you frequented one of the sushi bars in town. I did my best to replicate their recipe. I hope you find it acceptable.”

                Logan was stunned, blinking at the table of food in front of him and noting little by little the lengths that Hank must have gone to preparing for what he had perceived as a casual evening between friends.

                “Wow, furball, you really…you really went all out.” He stuttered. He glanced back at the bigger mutant, who was rushing to put Logan’s beer into the little fridge that stood in the apartment’s tiny kitchenette. “Oh it was really no trouble!” Hank assured, waving the comment off. “Forgive my zeal, I just…don’t get a chance to entertain much, and I do enjoy it, honestly.”

                “Unh-huh.” Logan mumbled, unsure what to make of the situation. He could smell Hank’s nervousness on him, though it was muffled under the smell of his cooking and what Logan recognized as very expensive cologne that smelled vaguely like green tea. “Uh, Hank…is this a date?”

                Logan watched the hairs on the back of McCoy’s neck bristle faintly, and the bigger man turned to him, blushing faintly beneath his fur, faintly chewing on his lip. “Oh my…I…I suppose it looks that way, doesn’t it?”

                The dark haired feral nodded, but was smiling. “Well, guess we’d better get on with it then, hmm? What first?”

                Hank blinked in surprise. “Oh, uh…yes, yes! Have a seat, everything’s ready.”

                Logan looked over the plate in front of him and smiled when he saw that Hank had somehow managed to make all his favorites, including elegant looking sake nigiri and temairzushi and maki rolls.

                “I trust everything looks alright?”

                “It looks amazing,” his companion answered, “But uh, I wouldn’t feel right about this if I didn’t ask what prompted it.”

                Hank looked at his hands and drew in a deep breath; “I wish I could say that my intentions were completely innocent, but, that would be false. I have been concerned about you, Logan. Your infatuation with Jean has never exactly been a secret.”

                The feral shrugged; “I gotta a knack for likin’ what’s bad for me. What can I say? But it ain’t like it matters; she made it clear she doesn’t feel the same way.”

                “Did you love her?”

                Logan poured himself some sake and drank it thoughtfully. “Between you and me, I don’t really know. She…reminds me of something, or someone, that’s all. Someone from a dream. Pretty stupid of me; chasing a phantom like that. Coulda only ever ended the way it did.”

                “And what about Scott?”

                Logan drank again, avoiding Henry’s eyes. “What about ‘im.”

                The Doctor exhaled quietly, his plate of food remaining untouched. “You’re a smart man, Logan. Smarter than most, including yourself, give you credit for. Whatever your talents, you don’t go around biting the hand that feeds you over nothing. That argument in the garage was not just about Jean.”

                Wolverine didn’t look back at him, continuing to drink, slow and measuredly, admiring the view of the topiary gardens outside Hank’s darkened windows. “Like I said…I got a knack.”

                Hank nodded, pouring himself a drink. “We all have the keen ability to know how to destroy ourselves, Logan. It must be very difficult for you, given your healing factor. So you’ve chosen toxic relationships as your preferred method of self-harm.”

                Wolverine’s blue eyes drifted back towards him, “This date is getting weird, Hank.”

                “What I mean to say is that there are better outlets. Instead of seeking out people who are only going to harm you in the end…why not look for those who would better appreciate your company?”

                A moment of quiet passed between the two of them and Hank sat calmly, hands folded neatly in front of him, patiently waiting for Logan to respond. The shorter man finished his drink, licking his lips faintly, already feeling the faint haze of drunkenness creeping in the back of his mind. The sake was strong.

                “There was a time I woulda taken ya up on that offer in a heartbeat, Hank. But…I think we both know that we make better friends than lovers.”

                “What makes you say that?”

                Logan reached across the table and put his hand on Hank’s thick blue one, giving it a firm squeeze; “Yer too good for me, sweetheart.”

                Henry held his hand in returned and looked at him seriously; “You didn’t seem to think that when we _first_ met.”

                His companion blinked in shock and then pulled back, stepping away from the table, “Guess I’m surprised you remember that.”

                “How could I forget? I was a young man then, Logan and you…you opened up my world, as it were.”

                Logan scoffed quietly; “Well…I ain’t sure if I should apologize to ya or be flattered.” He answered. “But I meant what I said; ya deserve much better than a hopeless case like me, Henry. I ain’t smart like you…and you ain’t wild like me.”

                “I can be wild.” Beast said, voice softer and bit a deeper than before. Logan swallowed a little harder than he meant to in surprise, suddenly sensing a change in the other mutant’s scent, detecting arousal as well as a rise in his heartrate.

                Logan felt a rush of blood through his own system at the thought and picked up his sake cup again; “So…what are you proposing here?”

                “Whatever you’re comfortable with,” Henry replied, lifting him from own chair and coming to stand closer to the smaller man, putting a hand on his back. “I…I know we’ve both changed since that time. I don’t want you to feel obligated or pressured…I know what I am.”

                Wolverine turned to look up at him, noting that Hank seemed to be suddenly second guessing himself; “Yer beautiful, Hank. Always were.”

                “Not like Scott. Not like you.”

                To his surprise Logan reached up and grabbed a tuff of his fur and tugged him down to his level before leaning in and kissing him hard. “Shut up and get down here,” he muttered, pausing long enough to catch his breath and pop open the collar of Hank’s shirt.

                Dr. McCoy emitted a warm growl and wrapped his big arms around his teammate’s short broad figure, falling back into his chair to allow he and Logan to remain comfortably at the same height. He pulled the man between his legs, wanting him close as he ran his big hands across his broad back, feeling the firmness of his muscles and the dip of his spine.

                Logan seemed to like his caresses as he pressed himself more closely to the doctor, deepening their kiss and kneading the back of Hank’s neck with his thick fingers. Hank let himself melt into it, letting himself forget for a moment how self-conscious he felt and just enjoy himself. He felt Logan becoming hard against him and sighed softly, breaking his lip lock long enough to move down Logan’s chin and neck, big hand brushing down across his back before reaching down and cupping his ass in one hand and squeezing.

                It was an impetuous move, one that surprised the Doctor and made him pause nervously. But Logan turned his face towards him, all dark eyed and flushed and lustful. “Why’d ya stop, darlin’?”

                Hank gulped, “I…I guess I didn’t expect you to be so willing.”

                The dark haired mutant nuzzled him, “What gave ya that idea? Yer a bit bigger than ya used to be, sure…but I ain’t afraid of that.”

                Hank shuddered softly, feeling his own animalistic side beginning to cloud his usual cool perception. Logan stroked his ear and nipped at it and Hank moaned softly, squeezing him closer. “How long’s it been?”

                “Too long.”

                “Men or women?”

                Hank didn’t answer and Logan paused in his teasing to look at him more carefully in the dim room. “Been long enough to forget?”

                McCoy looked mildly embarrassed and straightened his glasses again; “I haven’t had sex in many years, Logan. Not since my mutation became permanent. As you can imagine, it’s rather off putting for most.”

                Logan hesitated for a second, taking this information in, then leaned in and kissed him again, hands working on unbuttoning the rest of Hank’s shirt. But the other man stopped him. “What are you doing?”

                “Getting you outta this.”

                “Why?”

                “You wanna do it with it on? Might get hot with all the fur.” He looked up at McCoy then and gingerly pulled off his glasses, setting them on the table top. “Look Henry, you obviously went to a lot of trouble, trying to _woo_ me or save me from myself, or whatever.”

                “Well—“

                Logan stroked his cheek, bringing his attention back to him, hoping the gesture would calm the beastly man. “So, stop tryin’ so hard. You _got_ me. Okay?”

                Beast nodded and pulled the shorter man fully onto his lap, hands bracing his back as the shorter man straddled him and finished his work undoing his buttons, pulling him out of the shirt before tossing it onto the other empty chair.

                Logan ran his hands up and down Hank’s neck, back and shoulders, admiring the silky feel of his fur and the hard muscles underneath it. He seemed fascinated by it in fact, taking his time and moving slow and deliberate, savoring the texture while Hank watched him with equal fascination, nuzzling and kissing his neck and kneading his back and thigh muscles.

                Hank nipped him on the collar bone, earning a little gasp of pleasure from Wolverine, followed by a deep warm chuckle that made the golden eyed mutant look up. “What is it?”

                “Just funny ‘sall,” Logan replied, “yer making me see what I missed out on in ‘73. If I’d a known…well, I woulda wanted to stay on that damn plane a lot longer.”

                Hank chuckled as well. “Charles would have been furious.”

                “That was the point wasn’t it?” the shorter man sighed as Hank’s hands moved to his inner thighs and started further inward, making him reflectively rock against him.

                The Doctor chuckled warmly, nuzzling Logan as he stroked the thick warmth of his erection through the fabric of his jeans. “Yes…I believe they started the game, as I recall. And you and I finished it.”

 

***       


	2. Chapter 2

 

***       

 

_1973, the X-Wing, somewhere over the Pacific Ocean…_

 

                Logan _hated_ flying. He wasn’t sure what it was about it that set him so on edge, when he was so at ease with other things that were much more dangerous. Maybe it was his acute awareness of how heavy the plane was, how heavy _he_ was that made him realize how ridiculous it was to be so high in the air.

                Or maybe it was the two screaming idiots in front of him that his nerves so on edge. Charles had wasted very little time letting Eric know _exactly_ how heartbroken, how betrayed and how ruined he was by the other mutant’s behaviors.

                “You _abandoned_ me! You took her away and you _abandoned me!”_

                Logan looked at the weathered, red-eyed youth who was screaming himself hoarse in front of him, trying to reconcile the image of this heartbroken self-destructive college graduate with the mentor who had sent him back to this time. Everyone changes, he supposed. He just had no idea how _much_ Charles had changed.

                Magneto, now known simply as Erik among them, was less jarring. While his looks had changed; he was actually a fairly attractive young man, little of his personality had. He was still the same head-strong, tunnel-vision anarchist Logan had always known. Right down to the damn turtle-necks and withering stares. Not to mention the overreactions…

                Logan’s claws, now bone instead of adamanitum in this time, were out as he dug his nails into the arm of his chair. Erik was shaking the plane in his rage, forcing it to plummet despite Hank McCoy’s best efforts to keep it in the air.

                God, how Logan _hated_ planes.

                _“-- **You** abandoned us **all!** ” _ he roared, rattling the plane even further with his rage. The plane fell into silence as Erik slowly relinquished his hold upon the plane, allowing Hank to right it again and ease them back on course.

                Charles had slumped down into his seat, clearly shaken. Logan, trembling faintly himself, managed to pry himself out of his chair and move past Erik, who could do nothing but stare, chest heaving faintly.

                “Get some air, Chuck.” The bigger man said, squeezing Xavier’s shoulders. The smaller man got unsteadily to his feet with a nod to Logan and a squeeze upon his arm before disappearing into the cockpit with Hank.

                Logan sighed and looked back at Erik, who had sunk dejectedly into his own seat again. “So, you were _always_ an asshole.”

                The German blinked at him somewhat incredulously, then nodded as if reminding himself that Logan supposedly came from the future. “I assure you I have good reason.”

                “I know you do.” The dark haired man answered, hurriedly sitting down in his chair again, seeming to be unsteady trying to manage the isle, even if they were perfectly steady for the moment. He took a cigar from his pocket and lit it, puffing it to calm his nerves and glanced back lazily at the man in front of him, who was watching him with equal curiosity.

                “You probably don’t remember this, but…you and I have met before. I mean…before you and Chuck started recruiting.”

                Erik toyed with the toppled chess set in front of him thoughtfully and nodded faintly, moving the pieces into place without having to actually touch them. “Oh yes; yes I do remember you. I was quite young then…fifteen, sixteen, when you liberated our camp.”

                “You looked about twelve.”

                “Starvation will do that to a young man.” Erik said placidly. He looked up at Logan then, studying his face carefully for a moment. “You look exactly as I remembered. Well…perhaps a bit different, out of uniform. You were quite formidable looking.”

                Logan nodded; “I’m glad to see ya got along alright…for what it’s worth.” He answered. “Even if you did grow up to become a major pain in my ass.” He almost laughed. He couldn’t help it; it was all so absurd, this mission of his, traveling back in time this way. He never would have believed it, if he weren’t seeing it for himself.

                Erik nodded ruefully and glanced back towards the cockpit as if sensing that Charles was watching him. “Is it always like this?” he asked.

                Wolverine looked back towards the cockpit and caught sight of Charles peering back at them. “No. And yes.”

                “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

                “It means you two go through a lot of rough patches; _a lot._ You let your demons get the best of you, and more often than not, me and my friends are sent in to clean up the mess. But…there are times when you came together too. You two sent me back here; together.”

                The man across from him nodded slowly; “And this future…is it as terrible as you claim?”

                “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.” Wolverine fixed him with a deadly serious glance. “I’ve seen a lot of wars…but this war... we lose. We _all_ lose.”

                Erik nodded again; it seemed all he was capable of doing when he wasn’t staring at Charles. “Personal loses as well I imagine.”

                Logan took another long puff of his cigar and looked out the window at the slowly passing clouds beyond. “You can’t imagine.”

                “Oh can’t I?”

                Howlett bit his tongue and bowed his head. “Right. Sorry. Wasn’t thinking.”

                “Don’t apologize, Logan,” Charles said then, fully emerging from the cockpit and coming to stand beside him. “Erik often forgets that his suffering doesn’t negate the suffering of others.” He put his hand on Logan’s shoulder and the broader man glanced at it skeptically as it kneaded the thick muscle of his shoulder.

                The German studied the gesture for a moment and then turned away, reaching for the bottle of scotch upon the side rail and poured them all a glass. “Then let’s have a toast shall we? To our sorrows; and those who offer us… _solace_.”

                He glanced between Charles and Logan before taking a deep drink and nearly emptying his glass in one gulp. Logan sighed heavily and stood, moving past Charles, who reached for him and tried to pull him back.

                “Where are you going?”

                “Need a breath of fresh air myself,” he muttered. “You’re gonna have to go this round alone, Professor.” He slunk past them, moving into the cockpit beside Hank, who looked over at him in surprise.

                “Everything alright?” the be-speckled young man asked. Logan could see a faint tinge of blue at his hairline and on his fingers. He was just coming down from a transformation; no doubt caused by the stress of Erik’s outburst.

                Logan nodded faintly, looking out at the water and sky, seeing the tinge of pink and orange on the horizon. “Yeah…things got pretty hairy there for a moment.” His eyes flickered towards Hank and he smirked. “So to speak.”

                He saw a little smile appear at the corner of McCoy’s mouth, but it faded quickly. “Sorry you have to see him like this.” He sighed. “He’s just…been hurting for too long.”

                His passenger nodded; “Yeah, well…I know a little about that.”

                McCoy adjusted the wheel and set the plane into auto pilot, taking off his gear for a moment to relax and looked over at Logan directly. “Did you mean that; what you said about them…ending up together?”

                Wolverine nodded, and Hank sighed, looking somewhat disappointed. “Well…that’s…that’s something, isn’t it? I mean; as bad as things are now between them, there’s still hope.” He licked his lips thoughtfully and glanced back at him again. “I don’t suppose…you could tell me how I end up?”

                Logan was silent for a moment, trying to look at the sky without thinking about how high they were. “Well…when I meet you next, you’re different. _Good_ different.”

                “How do I look?”

                “Very blue.” Logan added. “And twice as big as me. Probably four times as smart too. You’re a freakin’ genius. And everybody loves you.”

                Hank scoffed, shaking his head. “So you mean…I get worse? My mutation, I mean.”

                “Didn’t ya hear all the other things I said?”

                Hank sighed. “Right. Sorry…still adjusting, I guess. Trying to accept what I’m becoming.”

                “Ain’t no shame in that.” Logan stood, no longer able to stand the view. He turned to leave, resigning himself to babysitting the bickering love birds when Hank caught his arm lightly.

                “Logan?”

                “Hmm?”

                “In the future…where you came from…do I make it?”

                Wolverine looked at him for a long moment then bent and kissed his forehead. “It don’t matter. I’m gonna set things right. You understand?”

                The young doctor nodded slowly, touched by the determination in the other man’s voice and the strange sadness in his eyes. He turned back to the controls, trying to refocus himself. But he could still feel Logan’s lips on his forehead.

 

 

                Logan moved to the back of the plane where there were sleeping compartments. He tried to put his mind at ease, to stay relaxed and focus as he’d been instructed, but so much seemed to be swimming around in his head that he thought it might burst.

                He nursed his racing mind with liquor and hoped it would lull him to sleep, or at least keep the memories that were too close to the surface at bay. Memories of Ororo and Remy…one who was waiting for him on the other side of this, just trying to stay alive. The other…gone where he couldn’t follow.

                Logan closed his eyes and finished the last dregs of the vodka he’d found before discarding the bottle on the floor beneath him. It certainly wasn’t his liquor of choice, but it’d do for tonight. Anything would do for tonight.

                He felt himself began to drift, forcing the memories out. He noticed that they felt thinner, more fleeting. He was already making a difference. That was something.

                He was almost a sleep, slipping into the warm numb haze in between, when he felt a body sit down beside his, and a hand on his chest. He startled, claws tensing, slipping just past his knuckles. He felt the strange roughness of the bones, having almost forgotten that natural sensation compared to his adamantium claws.

                He blinked up at Xavier’s face, who was watching him with concerned curiosity. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

                “What’s s’matter- what’s wrong?” the feral mutant muttered groggily, forcing himself up and feeling his stomach lurch faintly as the plane wavered upon encountering a strong air current. Charles steadied him.

                “Nothing, nothing’s wrong. I just…wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier.” He said. Logan felt his head throb; he was really not feeling up for this.

                “It’s fine, Chuck…”

                “No. No it isn’t. You came here at great risk and _incredible lengths_...and I have behaved like…”

                “An idiot?”

                Xavier laughed softly, eyes red rimmed and faintly wet, hair hanging in his face. He couldn’t quite tell if the man had been crying or drinking, but his sense of smell quickly confirmed both.

                “Yes, yes I suppose you’re right. I do apologize.” He put his hand on Logan’s knee. “I heard what you said to Hank. That was very kind of you.”

                “It’s the truth.” Logan nodded. He gave the young Professor a sidelong glance, as if considering something for a moment and then spoke again; “You know he cares about you a lot. You should remember that from time to time.”

                Charles looked somewhat perplexed for a moment, shaking his head. “You…you don’t mean…no. No, Hank and I are just friends, that’s all we’ve ever been.”

                Logan rolled his eyes; “For a man who will someday be the greatest telepath on the planet, you sure are dense sometimes.” He stood up, straightening his rumbled clothing and searching for his jacket. Charles was watching his every move and beneath the smell of salt and stale scotch, Logan could smell arousal in the young man.

                “Hank’s really….really not my type.”

                “Right,” Wolverine muttered, “I guess you’re much more into the damaged bad boy types.” He smirked, trying to laugh it off. He felt the man stand beside him, pressing himself up against him, reaching up to taking Logan’s face between his hands and kiss him.

                The bigger man stiffened under the sudden contact for only a second, then grabbed the thinner man by the arms and pulled him back. “What are you doin’?!”

                “Oh come on, Logan, you can’t pretend that there’s something between us. Ever since you stepped foot into my home, you’ve had this prowess this—animal magnetism over me—“

                Logan knocked him back on the cot. “Yer _drunk._ Yer drunk, and you’re angry and I believe me I get that. But I’m not going to let you make an ass out of yourself like this, just because you want to make Erik jealous.”

                “That’s not—“

                “That’s _exactly_ what you’re trying to do. Quite frankly it creeps me out. You need to get your head out of your ass and think about what’s at stake here. If we don’t _fix_ this, you and I are gonna watch the destruction of everything and everyone we ever loved. Don’t you _get_ that?”

Xavier bowed his head dejectedly, fingers trembling. “You’re right…of course, I’m so sorry.”

“I expected _better_ from you.” He hurriedly excused himself from the compartment, nervously making his way down the aisle towards the main passenger area, still wincing faintly at the taste of Xavier’s lips on his. It was like his kissing his grandfather somehow.

                He tromped past Erik, who was reclining in his seat, lazily browsing through a book, making his way to the cockpit again. “Not so fast…” Lenshher spoke quietly, catching Logan’s attention.

                “Not now,” the other man muttered.

                A seatbelt came up suddenly from its place upon the chair and wrapped around Logan’s wrist tightly, stopping him in his tracks. Wolverine glared back at the man, already wishing they had left him at the Pentagon. “Not a good idea, bub.”

                The belt yanked Logan down into the chair across from him and he went, grunting irritably as Erik sat up, studying him. He had the same red-rimmed, glassy eyed look as Xavier, but his gaze as always was a bit colder, a bit more calculating.

                “I want to know what you’re endgame is.” He said measuredly.

                Logan blinked. “My what?”

                “You want us to stop Raven from killing Trask. How do you suppose we do that? And what happens after? Are we supposed to just let this monster go free?”

                He had to admit they were all valid questions. But he didn’t particularly like the way he was being asked. He glared back at Erik; “We stop Raven from killing Trask; we get her _out_ of there. She’s the key to all of this, he can never get his hands on her or the Sentinels he creates will be unstoppable. After that…you’ll have to figure out on your own.”

                “So that’s it then for you?” Magneto asked, softly, quietly, just staring and studying him. “No other agenda?”

                “Jesus Christ…”

                “Logan, I like you. You’re a smart man despite your…outward brutish nature. I’m sure you’ve seen that Charles has his hands full. Who knows how long it will take for his powers to return to full strength; or return at all. But there are people here, now, who need guidance. Guidance he can’t give them. But you and I…we could do better for them.”

                Logan popped his claws and cut himself free, standing over him. “Is this where you give me your whole ‘join the dark side’ speech?”

                Erik blinked in confusion. “What?”

                Wolverine almost laughed, realizing he didn’t get the reference. “Look, Mags, I ain’t interested. Once we stop Raven, the time stream should correct itself. I’ll go back to doing and being wherever I was…” his mind wandered, realizing suddenly what that was, but then shook it off. “And you’ll go back to business as usual.”

                “No.” Erik said bluntly. “That’s not good enough for me.” More of the seatbelts lifted and shot around Logan, yanking him back down to the chair. Wolverine struggled, but Erik was suddenly on top of him, crouched over top of him, face very close. “You and me, we can end this war before it starts! Together we can give our people the advantage they deserve. You know I’m right, Logan, you’ve seen what they’ve done to us!”

                “This isn’t the answer!” Wolverine barked back and winced, “God, you smell like you dipped yourself in Scotch. What’s wrong with—“

                Erik leaned in and kissed him somewhat forcefully, and Logan groaned in irritation, twisting until he was finally able to cut himself free again. But another belt came from behind and coiled around his neck, holding him back flat against the seat as Erik proceeded to pop each little ornate button from his shirt, sending them plinking and flying across the plane. He brushed his hands down Logan’s chest, admiring the muscle and trying to move down between his legs.

                Logan twisted, half ready to stab him, when there was a roar and Hank’s thick blue figure suddenly came bounding across the aisle before grabbing Liensher by the back of the neck and hurling him down the aisle way until he crashed into the compartment door.

                Wolverine looked up at Beast, now fully transformed, panting and snarling beside him. “You get your dirty hands off him!”

                “Temper temper, doctor.” Erik muttered from his fallen position, trying to right himself as Charles came rushing into the compart, blinking in confusion at the commotion.

                “What’s going on?” he demanded.

                Logan stood up, adjusting his ruined shirt across his torso, “I’m about sick of you two. So for the rest of the flight…” he stomped towards them, picking Erik off the floor and nudging Xavier back through the doorway before sending Magneto tumbling into him. “…you two are gonna talk things out; and leave _me_ the hell out of it!”

                He stepped back and slammed the door behind them, locking it. He saw the look on Erik’s face, knowing the mutant could easily free himself, and showed his claws. “And no one comes out till you do. Or I’m gonna get real pissy. Understood?”

                He turned and made his way back towards Hank, who ushered him up front with him again, slipping behind the cockpit curtain.

                “Are you alright?” McCoy asked.

                Logan dropped down into the co-pilot seat and rubbed his temples tiredly. Outside the sky was inky blue and he could see the moon reflecting faintly off the waves of the ocean below. “Fine. Could use a shower though.” He snorted.

                Hank laughed as well, slowly sinking into his seat again with some awkwardness. He seemed extremely aware of his form, doing his best not to look at it, as if he could will it away.

                “Thanks for the rescue.” Logan nodded.

                “You didn’t need my help,” McCoy answered. “I’m sure you could have handled him. I just…got so angry seeing him throw his weight around. I hate him. Maybe I shouldn’t, but….I can’t forgive him either.”

                “For what?”

                The pilot swallowed a little harder and licked his lips nervously, staring out the window, hands on the steering despite the fact that the plane was on autopilot again and flying smoothly. “I suppose you know everything already, so there isn’t any point in pretending…” he said thoughtfully. “It’s not even what he did to Shaw, or that he took half the team and left. It’s not even about what he did to Kennedy, or the terrorism…it’s that despite all that; Charles will always choose him over me.”

                Logan looked at him mournfully, watching Hank come down from his transformation, slowly regressing into his human state again. “Tell me the truth,” he said then, looking to Logan. “Do he and I ever…?”

                Wolverine slowly shook his head. “No. At least, not that I ever knew of.”

                Beast nodded ruefully, palming his hair back as it slowly became normal again instead of the bushy blue mane it had been moments before. “Well. There you have it then.”

                They stared out into the dark night for a moment in silence, hearing the faint murmur of their passenger’s bickering beyond the door. “I can’t say I blame him, you know.” He added after a moment. “I mean, who would ever want me like this?”

                Wolverine eyed him for a moment, reclined tiredly against his seat. “I would, for one.”

                McCoy laughed, not looking at him. “Right, right. Guy like you; you can get anyone you want. I mean, look at the two of them fighting over you. But sure…you’d settle for big blue and hairy.” He shook his head, still chuckling. “I appreciate you trying to make me feel better, but—“

                “I’m being serious.” Logan answered.

                Hank finally turned to look at him, and there was no hint of laughter or deception in his features. The younger mutant felt himself shiver a little under the feral’s intense blue-eyed stare. “I never seen ya this way before now,” Logan confessed. “Only in pictures. Yer cute…but I have ta admit, I got a soft spot for the other you.”

                “You’re joking.”

                “Do I look like a joking man?”

                He leaned forward in his seat so that he could be closer to Hank, who was easily drawn in by the warmth and intensity he felt coming off the man. Logan looked at him carefully, gaging his reactions. “Have yer feral senses kicked in yet?”

                “My what?”

                “Heightened sense of smell, hearing? I know you have the agility part down, the way you came after Erik.”

                Hank nodded faintly, adjusting his glasses. “How did you…” he paused, laughing at himself. “Right, right. The other me.” He scrubbed his chin thoughtfully, looking nervously back towards the curtain. “Yeah…I’ve had it for a little while now. But I haven’t told anyone.”

                “Why not?”

                Hank looked at the floor. “It didn’t seem important.”

                Logan leaned a little closer; “You were embarrassed. You shouldn’t be. It’s a gift…” He studied Hank’s face, trying to reconcile this young human man with the Hank McCoy of his memories. “Can you do it while you’re like this?”

                Hank nodded slowly. He could hear Logan’s heart beating, smell his sweat and the faint stench of vodka on him. He could also smell Logan’s natural scent, mixing faintly with the lingering scent of both Charles and Erik and their recent contact with him. He _liked_ how Logan smelled. He’d been unable to shake it since the man had entered the mansion just a few short days ago.

                “How old am I when we meet again?” Hank found himself asking, suddenly hungry to know the answer.

                “Probably thirty five,” Logan mused. “Maybe older. You always _sound_ older. And somehow the accent gets thicker.”

                Hank looked shocked and somewhat disappointed. “But…you must be at least that now.”

                Logan smirked; “Actually, I’m much older. Much…much older. I don’t age. Or…at least I seem to age much slower than everyone else. Part of the healing factor, I guess.”

                “So you…you’ll look like _this_ when we meet again?” Logan nodded and Hank looked away, shifting slightly and licking his lips again. “Hoo-boy…” he exhaled.

                Wolverine chuckled low in his throat and it was deep, warm rumbling sound that made McCoy shiver slightly, creating a pinch in his chest and a warmth in his stomach that was slowly seeping lower. Logan stood up, stretching and glanced back behind the curtain dividing them from the rest of the plane. He could see the door beyond and hear Erik and Charles talking. Magneto had already undone the lock, as he suspected. But they hadn’t emerged. That was something.

                “I’m glad yer here, Hank.” He said at length, his back still to the other man. “I don’t know if I could have handled Chuck alone. Much less Liensher.”

                Hank nodded solemnly, still staring ahead. Logan turned after a bit, leaning over his shoulder as he gazed out the window. He felt Hank tense at the close proximity and grinned in spite of himself, moving a hand around to lightly stroke the side of Hank’s neck and the soft spot behind his ear. “Easy, Beasty. Just me.”

                Hank shivered and Logan could smell his arousal grow, hear the rise in his heart rate and practically feel the new pull of blood through his veins. It made him realize how lonely he was, and how much he had missed Hank, who had been lost to him for some time. “Damn, you’re easy to stir up. Guess it must have been awhile for you, or…are you not used to men flirting with you yet?”

                “Yet?”

                Logan kissed the top of his head and slunk back into his seat. “Oh this is too weird. So, I guess we’ve never had this talk. You must still be new to the game. Maybe, what, a girl friend or two since you’ve hooked up with Chuck?”

                Hank nervously shook his head. “No…no, there’s been…no one.”

                “Really?”

                “I don’t have time for dating.”

                “Right, You’re too busy being Xavier’s babysitter.” He looked almost frustrated. “You can’t tell me you’re just sitting around that big Mansion waiting for Charles to…” he stopped himself and sighed sadly. “Jesus, that’s exactly what you’ve been doing, isn’t it?”

                “That’s not your business.”

                “Right, right I know. Just… _damn_ , McCoy. Don’t you get lonely?”

                “Of course I do!” Hank found himself snapping. “It’s…it’s _palpable_ in fact. But…Charles needs me.”

                Logan looked around the cockpit and shrugged. “He seems pretty well taken care of for the moment. Has he ever once asked you if you were happy there, stuck in that musty old place with him, picking him up out of puddles of drool and puke?” He put his hand on Hank’s shoulder. “You’ve e _arned_ a little bit of happiness, Henry. Don’t you think?”

                McCoy only looked at him blankly for a moment, eyes turning from brown to faint shimmering gold as his emotions began to trigger another shift in his transformation. Logan loved those eyes. He missed them. He leaned forward before being able to stop himself and kissed the man softly on the cheek, then on the lips, then pulled back promptly. “Sorry,” he mumbled, scrubbing his palm across his face. “Got caught up in my own memories there for a minute. I didn’t mean ta--”

                Hank caught his arm and pulled him back in, kissing him again in a desperate, slightly awkward fashion. Logan hesitated for less than a second, wondering if this was right, then quickly gave over to the warm feeling, sliding out of his seat and moving to kneel in front of Hank, drawing the man in closer to kiss him more deeply.

                McCoy became rather breathless quickly, sighing sharply against Logan’s lips before pulling back, shivering slightly. Logan quickly realized why. He looked down and noticed that bright blue hairs had begun to cover Hank’s arms, rippling up his torso and throat, creating the familiar blue mane around his face as it too began to change slightly in shape and texture.

                “No-no! Not now!”

                “Shh, it’s fine,” Logan soothed, stroking his neck and cheek. “Don’t be afraid of it. It’s who you are.”

                “But I don’t…I’m not an animal.”

                “I know. You’re _Beast_. There’s a difference.” He kept a soothing hand at Hank’s neck, keeping his position kneeling between his thighs, watching him change, brushing his other hand lightly across McCoy’s thickened forearm, admiring the velvet feel of his fur.

                Hank looked at him then, fully transformed, eyes full of shame and anxiety. But Logan didn’t look away, or even flinch. In fact, he was smiling more warmly now; “There you are Beasty.”

                “You… _like me_ like this?”

                Logan almost purred. “Can’t ya tell?”

                Hank _could_ tell. He could feel Logan’s heightened heart rate, though it was nothing compared to the nervous thundering of his own, and smell the other mutant’s own stirring excitement. He felt his heart flutter and Logan must have noticed too because he leaned closer and kissed his cheek and jaw softly, nuzzling the thick tuft of fur there. “I _missed_ you,” he mumbled, holding him tightly.

                Tentatively Hank put his own arms around the broader man, stroking his back and letting his thick paw like fingers feather through Logan’s black hair, ruffling it further. He didn’t know what to say; all he knew was that he didn’t want to let the man go now that he had him.

                McCoy moved to kiss him again and Logan met him warmly, parting his lips a little more, tongue brushing against Hank’s lips, trying to coax entry. Hank sighed and obliged, pulling Logan closer. He felt the other man run his rough palms over his torso, pawing at the buttons on his shirt and slowly undoing them. The fabric gave way gratefully, being stretched to its limit with Hank’s changing body. When Logan was down to the last few, he took the initiative and slid Logan’s shirt off down his shoulders and off his back, letting it fall to the floor.

                The man was all hard muscle and tan skin, and Hank gulped as Logan broke their kisses to move down his chest, pushing the pilot further back in his seat to gain more access to his body. Hank was hard, and he knew Logan could tell. The bulge in his pants was practically obscene. Wolverine flashed him a devious little look and went for his belt.

                Hank tensed; “W-wait, Logan--!”

                “Shh, it’s fine, darlin’. Let me help.” The older man spoke. But Hank continued to look nervous as Logan began to undo his fly and slid the belt open. He paused, sitting back and looking at Hank more fully. “Are ye alright?”

                “I’ve never… _never_ ….”

                “It’s okay. I have. I’ll take care of ya, Hank.” He ran his hand lightly over the bulge and made Beast whimper faintly at the contact. “Do you want me to?”

                Hank nodded mutely, eyes dark molten gold and hooded, stroking Logan’s neck and shoulder faintly. Wolverine smiled and leaned up to kiss him again.

                “Sit back and relax…” he assured, moving back down Hank’s body to his groin, slowly sliding the rough fabric of his awful corduroy pants over his hips. Hank gave a little jolt of nervousness; “It’s blue!” he gasped.

                Logan blinked up at him.

                “Just…just so you weren’t…caught by surprise.”

                Logan grinned, swallowing a laugh. “Good thing blue happens to be my favorite color,” he chuckled, yanking Hank’s pants down his thighs in a swift tug, earning a little gasp of surprise and excitement from the man above. Logan looked down at the man, who already fully erect and sighed, wrapping his hand around him lightly.

                “Damn…I forgot what you were packin’.”

                Hank swallowed nervously again, digging his free hand into the arms of his seat, trying not to let his hips thrust upward the way they ached to at Logan’s touch, wanting more. “Is…is that a problem?”

                Again Wolverine grinned. “Not for me, sweetheart.” He settled a little lower between Hank’s legs and dipped his head and McCoy gave a stuttering gasp when he felt the man _lick_ him, softly, teasingly.

                “Oh God…!”

                Logan squeezed him with one hand, stroking slowly and up and down from root to tip, while the other massaged his thigh, feeling the thick tense muscles beneath the shimmering blue fur. Logan let go of everything and let himself enjoy this moment, knowing it might be a very long time before anything like it came again, and fearing that it wouldn’t come at all.

                He swirled his tongue around Hank’s head, kissing, licking, taking his time before finally taking more of him into his mouth, picking up speed little by little and squeezing his palm lightly over the thick vein on the underside of the man’s cock.

                Hank was already breathing heavy, struggling to keep quiet, nervously looking back at the half-closed curtain that divided them and the rest of the plane. But he looked down at Logan, shocked and incredibly turned on by how at ease he was, and pushed that fear aside. He stroked the back of the man’s neck and shoulders with his paw like hand, and Logan seemed to enjoy that, nuzzling back against his palm and sighing against his skin.

                “Your technique is quite…ah! Ah! Good…” Hank gasped, for some reason feeling the need to make small talk. Logan glanced up at him, his mouth still full and smirked, bobbing his head lower and making Hank moan loudly, feeling the man suck and swirl his tongue around him.

                Logan could feel by how thick Hank was in his mouth and the way the man’s hips were stuttering and swaying towards him that it wasn’t going to take much more for him reach the edge. Logan sucked harder, dipping lower and pumping him a bit faster, earning another loud moan from Hank. He felt Beast’s nails scrape over his skin, scratching him lightly and he moaned slightly in response.

                The vibration must have set Hank off cause the next second he grabbed Logan’s neck hard and tugged him back as he shuddered, splattering all over the man’s chest and neck before he could stop himself. “Ah! _Logan!_ ” the younger man rasped, still shivering as he came down. He blinked in the haze, feeling his partner’s thick hand still stroking his thigh to calm him.

                “Ah! Ah…oh, oh my…” Hank stuttered with embarrassment as he looked down at Logan’s splattered skin the in the aftermath. “I’m sorry--!”

                Wolverine pressed a finger to his lips, “Shush, it’s fine.” He reached and grabbed his ruined shirt and used it to clean up the mess. Just then they heard the door open and Charles come marching into the cockpit.

                “What’s going on up--?” the Professor’s question died on his lips as he stared down at the two men before him, Hank still flushed and exposed (not to mention completely transformed) and Logan still kneeling between his legs, attempting to discard evidence. “Oh my _God_ ,” Charles mumbled, bringing a hand to his mouth as he looked incredulously between Howlett and McCoy.

                Logan stood up, shirtless and still obviously hard and leered down at Xavier, reaching to grab the privacy curtain. “No one invited you, bub.”

                “Excuse me?”

                Logan gave him that same withering, stern look that made Xavier wilt and pulse with strange desire at the same time. “I said this ain’t no _peep show_. Go back to yer seat. We’ll talk later.” He nudged Charles out the doorway again and closed the door and curtain behind him before turning back to Hank.

                “You alright?”

                “I’m…I’m fine.” The Doctor panted, trying to tuck himself back into his pants, which seemed slightly difficult as he hadn’t reverted to his usual form yet. He kept looking Logan up and down, drinking in the view while at the same time trying to convince himself that what he was seeing was _real_ and not some intense wet dream.

                “Do you…do you need…?” He looked nervously at the obvious bulge in Logan’s jeans, wanting desperately to return the favor but having no idea of even where to start. He’d never touched another man, though he’d often thought about it.

                Logan however simply tugged the man up from his seat and kissed him, wrapping his arms around him tightly. “Don’t worry about me. How much longer till this bird lands?”

                Hank reluctantly glanced back at the controls. “Not long; maybe another two hours.” He looked back and hesitantly swept his hand between them, brushing the warmth between Logan’s thighs and earning a quiet little moan from the man in return. Hank was fascinated, wanting more, but he heard Erik and Charles begin to argue again.

                Both men sighed heavily in irritation and Logan dropped his head against Hank’s. “Sorry, darlin’. Looks like we’ll have to wait awhile.”

                McCoy nodded sadly, pulling back and exhaling loudly. He reached into a compartment behind the chair and dug around, finding Logan another shirt to wear from his duffle pack. Howlett took it with a smile. “You just focus on getting us on the ground in one piece. Let me deal with the idiots.”

                Hank laughed and as Logan turned back towards the door, he caught the man’s hand again. “Hey…promise me we’ll fix this. Promise me?”

                Logan nodded.

 

***


	3. Chapter 3

 

***

 

                _Present Day, the Xavier Institute, Hank McCoy’s room_

 

                They had moved away from the table, drawing further into the darkened apartment until they were standing in McCoy’s bedroom. Logan had already worked the larger man out of the majority of his clothing, leaving nothing to discard except for his belt and dress pants, which were dropped quickly.

                Logan admitted he was almost disappointed to find that Hank was still wearing one more layer of clothing; a plain pair of dark grey boxers. He smirked and popped one claw, using it to slash the boxers open at the side seam, letting them fall away natural.

“Logan!”

“Hush, I’ll buy ya new ones.”

Hank shook his head, chuckling to himself at his partner’s zeal, and sat down on the edge of his very spacious bed, tugging Logan forward by hooking one of his claws into the belt loop of his jeans, bringing him to stand between his legs again as he tugged the tight black t-shirt over his head.

                Wolverine reached for his belt, but Hank brushed his hand away; “Don’t rush, please,” McCoy chided him gently. “I’d like to take our time…if that’s alright with you?”

                Logan nodded, “Alright, darlin’.”

                McCoy pulled him in close, pressing his face to Logan’s chest, kissing, nuzzling, licking and nipping his way across his firm skin, feeling muscles and following the thick line of black hair that trailed down his chest and made its way below the waistband of his jeans. It was nice to be this close to Wolverine without a medical reason, allowing him to enjoy this closeness without his usual calculating eye. Logan was just as he remembered him from all those years ago, and the idea staggered and elated him. It wasn’t often people got second chances like this.

                There was no hesitation on his partner’s behalf either; the feral man seemed just at ease with him now as before, stroking Hank’s thick blue mane of hair and scratching his shoulders and neck, coaxing the man’s explorations of his own skin. There was a tenderness in Logan that most people missed, driven off by his abrasive outward nature. It was a shame really. Hank wished others could see this side of the lonely mutant.

                Logan gave a little gasp of surprise then when he heard Hank give a rumbling growl low in his throat before moving his palm down his abdomen and grabbing him somewhat possessively between the thighs, sending a rush of blood there at made the man harder than he already was.

                Hank leaned up and began to nip sharply at the black-haired man’s neck as he yanked his jeans down in a single tug, taking his briefs with them, and pulling the shorter man into his lap again. Logan realized then, naked and now straddling his temporary lover’s thick muscular thighs, just how small he was compared to Beast. It was fascinating, but also slightly terrifying. Hank sensed this new apprehension and looked at him worriedly. “What’s wrong?”

                “Nothin’,” his lover soothed, “just realized how much you’ve changed since that scrawny kid I knew. And realizing that we don’t spend nearly enough time together in training.”

                He forgot his apprehension when Hank’s fangs bit into his skin, making him moan and hiss, pulling the man closer to him. Hank obliged by wrapping himself completely around Wolverine’s short frame, licking the wound upon the man’s neck apologetically until it closed and faded a moment later.

                Hank’s hand moved down between them, brushing and pawing over Logan’s cock, teasing him with firm touches but not quite latching on. Wolverine whimpered slightly in arousal and frustration and Hank relished the sound. “You’ve learned a trick or two, huh?” Logan asked softly, scratching behind his ear and making the man’s hips jolt upward against him in response.

                “Let’s just say I’ve read a lot,”

                Logan kissed him, wrapping his legs around Hank’s hips and bringing them flush together, which caused a unique sort of friction that made the Doctor moan and growl. He took both of them in his thick paw, squeezing and starting a slow rhythm that would allow things to build while he continued tasting Logan’s skin.

                It wasn’t long at all until Wolverine felt like he was going to explode; Hank was doing his best to keep him constantly stimulated, one sensation bleeding into the next. The warmth of the man’s thick fur was soothing but only added to the stimulation and the heat of it had Logan’s head feeling cloudy. Or maybe that was just the sake.

                But he was slowly becoming aware that Hank wasn’t allowing him much participation, seeming content to have Logan simply hang on and enjoy himself. Wolverine had to admit that it wasn’t an unpleasant change of pace; he was usually doing most of the work at his point; but something about it felt off…

                He decided to test his theory by moving Hank’s hand from it’s firm place around his cock, guiding to around to his ass. “Enough foreplay,” he grumbled, “I’m ready for more.”

                Hank looked down at him in concern, eyes still that glittering color of molten gold. “Are you sure?” he asked, sounding much more concerned than he should have.

                Logan nodded, keeping eye contact with him as he guided the man’s thick fingers against him. “Very. But…you’re a bit bigger than I remember. You got any lube?”

                Hank’s eyes widened and he looked momentarily crestfallen. The heartbreak on his face was so endearing Logan almost laughed. But before Beast could explained that he simply hadn’t thought that far ahead, Wolverine leaned in and kissed him again. “It’s alright, baby. I got it covered.”

                He wriggled slightly out of Hank’s grasp—which was no easy thing to do—and bent back over the bed, grabbing his jeans. He fumbled in a pocket and pulled out a tiny tube of the stuff before sitting back up with it, frowning at the small amount.

                Hank stared at him. “You carry that around with you?”

                Logan shrugged; “Hey, it can be used for things _besides_ sex.” He opened the top and poured the contents onto Hank’s hand, absently stroking the man’s throbbing shaft with his other hand, keeping him on edge.

                “Ready when you are.” He purred, nipping the man’s neck softly and pulling himself up on his knees so that the man could reach him better in their tangled positon. Hank’s nodded, attaching his mouth to Logan’s neck again as he moved behind him, probing and then pushing inward.

                Logan flinched slightly; even Hank’s fingers were thick and he hadn’t been on the receiving end of this treatment in sometime. He dug his hands into Hank’s shoulders for support, sighing and moaning encouragingly.   He let out a sharp gasp as Hank finally loosened the ring of muscle, pushing inside.

                “Goddammit, McCoy!” he rasped, pushing against him, trying to make him go deeper. “Yer drivin’ me crazy goin’ so slow….Ahh!”

                Hank bit him lightly and pushed further inside, earning another moan from the man as he stretched him nervously. “I don’t want to hurt you,” Hank reminded him, sounding slightly shaken.

                Logan heard the unsteadiness in his voice and looked down, cupping the mutant’s face between his hands and looked at him seriously. “Listen to me; you _can’t_ hurt me, darlin’. And what’s more important is that I know you _won’t._ ” he nuzzled him, “I want this. I want _you_.”

                Hank purred warmly, holding Logan close for a moment before putting both hands on either side of the man’s hips, moving him into positon and easing Wolverine back down slowly.

                Logan grunted, teeth sinking into his lower lip as he felt Hank begin to push inside him, which was rough despite all his preparations. It was going to hurt, and both men knew it. Hank seemed to be reconsidering, nervously watching Logan’s face.

                Logan, however, was not the kind to shy away from a little pain. He was the kind of guy who ripped the band aid off in one big yank, instead of one goddamn hair at time. And this situation seemed no different to him.

                Hank was barely inside him when Logan took the beastly mutant’s face between his hands, pulling him closer, looking him in the eye. “You got me?”

                “Y-yes?” Hank stuttered uncertainly.

                “Good.” Logan let himself drop down fully, forcing Hank all the way inside him in one motion. Both men bellowed at the sudden intense sensation, Hank actually emitting a small roar of surprise and pleasure, hips sputtering, twitching as he found himself fully sheathed inside Logan.

                His lover let out a curse, shaking bodily at the force of the entry, face twisted in a mix of shock, pain and pleasure. “Logan! Logan, are you--?” he stammered, breathless and incredulous at his impetuous action.

                Wolverine didn’t lift his head from its bowed positon, forehead pressed against Hank’s chest, but instead he began to lift himself slowly, pulling away only to fall down again and drive McCoy deeper. The thrusts were small and shallow, and Hank used all his restraint to remain still beneath him, letting Logan slowly build the pace on his own as his body adjusted.

                Hank admitted to himself that he could have watched Logan ride him forever, devouring and savoring each little expression that passed across his face and drinking in the little sighs and grunts that he struggled to keep quiet. But it was his turn to take charge.

                He started to tease and stroke the man again, eliciting a loud moan from the man in return before taking his chin and coaxing him to look up at him again; “Hold onto me.”

                Breathlessly the dark haired man nodded, wrapping his arms around Hank’s neck as the larger furred mutant in turn braced him, keeping them intertwined even as they changed positons. Hank laid Logan on his back on the bed, lifting the smaller man’s hips higher so that Logan had no choice but to keep his legs wrapped around Hank’s waist.

                Wolverine had very little leverage in this positon, but he felt far from helpless or out of control, looking up at Hank and admiring the lustful but loving expression on his face. “I have waited decades to be able to return the favor, Logan. Please…?”

                Logan exhaled slowly, relaxing, giving over as much as he dared. He didn’t know why, but it was easier for him to let go around Hank; in a way that it had never been with anyone else, and certainly none of the X-Men.

                He tilted his head, exposing his neck, a primal sign of submission that both recognized. Hank purred and drew back slightly before rocking forward, making Logan shudder and gasp under him. Within minutes McCoy had developed a grinding rhythm that had the dark haired feral feeling like he was going to go insane from stimulation.

                For a virgin, Hank was pretty damn good at fucking. Logan tried to remind himself to ask exactly what books he was reading that taught him how to do _this_ but eventually the only thoughts his mind could hold were monosyllabic; “more!”, “please!”, “yes!”

                As for McCoy, he had slipped into his own primal heated state, intent on turning the writhing, gasping Wolverine between his thighs into a boneless mewling puddle. Logan was so tight around him, and Hank realized vaguely in the back of his mind that he had the mutant’s healing factor to thank for that; because no matter how hard he dove into him, his muscles kept tightening, repairing, trying to restore their natural state.

                Hank was almost completely bent over the man now, controlling Logan’s hips as he drove into the man over and over while Wolverine dissolved beneath him, hardly able to breathe much less speak. Hank felt himself beginning to come to the edge, and wanted Logan to as well. He shifted faintly, twisting slightly to the left and driving harder.

                Logan arched off the bed, nails digging hard enough into Hank’s shoulders to leave bruises and let out a stuttering howl of climax, sputtering between the two of them, matting fur and sweaty skin together as Hank continued to thrust, riding on the edge of Logan’s orgasm into his own.

                “Ah-ah!! LOGAN!”

                Wolverine, face flushed deep pink and shinning with sweat, just grinned euphorically and squeezed himself around the other man, using his legs to push Hank in as deep as he would go. Hank rasped and shuddered for a few more moments, then began to fold in upon himself, collapsing around Logan in a protective blue shell.

                Wolverine lay beneath him, completely spent, unable to do much other than attempt to catch his breath, slowly coming down from the intense high, feeling dizzy and surprisingly weak for the experience.

                Hank listened to the thundering of his pulse as he collected himself, and little by little, willed himself to move back, giving his lover a little more air to breathe. Logan whimpered faintly at the loss but didn’t move, lying there with his eyes closed, panting softly.

                Out of habit, Hank checked his pulse, and when Wolverine grunted at him, he moved away and searched for something to clean up the quickly drying residue that had matted his fur into an unsightly mess.

                “That…that was…” Hank mumbled, sitting on the edge of the bed as he groomed himself, searching for words, but unable to find suitable ones. “Much more than I could have ever hoped for.”

                Logan’s eyes opened into a pale blue slit, watching the man next to him. “Glad ya enjoyed yourself.” He chuckled. He tried to roll over, but every muscle in his body throbbed deeply, making him feel both miserable and satisfied at the same time. “Damn, McCoy…that’s going to linger. And coming from me, that’s saying something.”

                “But it must have been painful,” Hank said, already returning to his old self. “With your constant cellar repair—“

                Logan grabbed his hand and pulled him back to him, “Shut up, will ya? I’m _fine._ But I’m spent. Mind if I sleep here tonight? Not sure my legs will let me do the walk of shame back to my room.”

                Hank curled around the naked man, spooning him from behind as he nuzzled the feral’s wild black hair, which was jutting up in every direction after their exuberant encounter. Logan almost laughed at the way Hank had rolled him into a ball, but the warmth and close proximity, not to mention the sense of security he felt from the position immediately lulled him into a doze.

                McCoy kissed his neck softly, arms tucked around the smaller man, feeling surprisingly content lying there with him. He knew he cared for Logan deeply, but at the same time felt hesitant to call their relationship something akin to romantic love. He almost gave over to his natural impulse of overthinking and over examining the issue, until he glanced down and saw that Logan was fast asleep.

                It meant everything to Hank that Logan trusted him this much, was this comfortable around him. Sex was one thing; but this said something even more. He closed his own eyes and tucked a pillow under his shaggy head and let himself fall asleep to the sound of Wolverine’s steady heartbeat under his palms.

 

**

 

                Logan slept heavy and late. It was the most rest he’d gotten since he arrived at the mansion, come to think of it. He was tangled in sheets, swimming in a massive bed that was warm with sunlight and body heat and still smelled of sex. But he was alone.

                He turned over in the bed and found the spot that Hank had occupied through the night empty and very cold. He hadn’t been there for two hours or more. Logan blinked tiredly, scrubbing his hands over his face as he sighed and grunted, trying to shake the grogginess from his head and the creeping sense of guilt that had begun in his gut.

                He’d been here so little time…why hadn’t he learned his lesson yet? After the on-going mess with Scott, not to mention the tension with Jean, why did he continue to find beds to fall into, mindless of the consequences?

                He sat up and looked at the clock on Hank’s bedside table. The digital numbers were obscured by a folded piece of paper with Logan’s name scrawled across it. The burly man reached for it, sitting up amidst the puddle of sheets and unfolded the note, glancing at Hank’s scrawling handwriting on the lined page;

                _Logan,_

_Last night was wonderful. I have classes this morning; I didn’t want to disturb you. I’ll be in the lecture hall teaching biophysics until 9:30. Could I entice you with brunch?_

_If you have a previous engagement, don’t hesitate to tell me._

_~Hank_

                               

                He mulled over the words, trying to decide if Hank was just impeccably polite and trying to let him down easy, or if there was as much fondness in his words as Logan hoped. Either way, he’d been left with much worse morning greetings after a one-night stand.

                Logan climbed out of bed, found his clothes and made for Hank’s shower. He would have liked to have kept the scent of the other man on him for a while longer, but he supposed he should make some effort to look a little less… _wrecked_ after last night.

                The newest X-Men found himself caught somewhere between the lingering euphoria of a rare and intimate encounter with someone he not only found attractive, but also _liked_ and respected, and the inevitable fear of rejection. What if Hank was having second thoughts about what happened last night?

                Logan wasn’t looking to tie the man down, nor pull him into a serious relationship. If last night had simply been a one-time thing, he was fine with that. As long as it didn’t destroy that bond, that trust that been before. Logan couldn’t afford to alienate anymore people with his careless mistakes.

 

                After showering, and picking up Hank’s room and making the bed, the dark haired man made his way back through the halls of the mansion to his own bedroom and changed into a fresh pair of clothes before making his way to Hank’s class room.

                He waited outside the closed door, glancing through the tinted glass of the window at Beast, who was dressed in his usual dress shirt, tie, slacks and lab coat, pacing back and forth in front of the chalk board while a handful of students hastily scribbled notes.

                Bobby, who was in the front row, glanced in direction and raised an eyebrow, giving him a little wave. Logan frowned and ducked out of sight, but Hank must have caught a glimpse of him as he did. A moment later the Doctor was at the door, peering around it at the shorter man.

                “Good morning,” he grinned. “I’ll just be a moment, I need to give out the assignment.”

                Logan nodded. “Take yer time, Beasty.”

                Hank nodded fondly and ducked back inside without closing the door, quickly rattling off a list of chapters to be read from a rather cumbersome text book and an essay that was due afterward. The students filed out hastily after, most casting a curious look at Wolverine as they passed. As soon as the last student had skittered down the hall, Hank stepped outside, brief case in hand.

                Logan sucked in a little nervous breath, waiting for some indication that Hank was feeling uncomfortable about last night, or was having regrets of some kind. But instead the big blue man simply put an arm around him and kissed his lips and cheek warmly. “Did you sleep well?”

                Logan almost couldn’t contain the surprised smirk that spread across his lips. “Great. Better than I have in ages, actually.” He admitted.

                Hank nodded happily, “Well, I have about an hour and half before my next lesson. Shall we grab a bite?”

                The dark haired man nodded, speechless.

 

**

 

                Fifteen minutes later they were sitting on the porch of one of Westchester’s more mutant friendly establishments; though the number seemed to be dwindling more every day. Logan contented himself with a sandwich and beer, while Hank had a martini and pasta salad, which apparently was his usual.

                “So…” Hank began, glancing at the smaller man across the table from him, who looked surprisingly tense. “I suppose this is the part where you thank me for the lovely evening, but suggest we see other people. Am I correct?”

                Logan cocked his head; “I was waiting for something similar to come out of you, to be honest. Expected it, in fact.”

                They stared at each other a moment and then began to laugh, feeling the nervousness seep out of them like a passing breeze. Hank wiped his eyes and adjusted his glasses; “Oh, I was so nervous all morning I could barely make it through my lesson. I thought for sure you were going to say something when you showed up outside my door.”

                Logan reached across the table and squeezed the man’s big blue paw; “Hank, last night was probably the best night I’ve had since I came here.”

                “But…” Hank coaxed quietly.

                Wolverine sighed, squeezing his hand again. “Dammit, are ya some kind of telepath now too?”

                “No, just observant.” He stated, pausing to sip his drink and subsequently steady himself. “Logan…I care for you deeply. And I’m not sure I could ever repay you for easing my loneliness. But, and forgive me if I presume too much, I think we would be somewhat…incompatible in the long run.”

                Logan chuckled again at how delicately Hank had phrased it; “Ya need someone who’s stable, darlin’. And I’m anything but. Don’t mean I don’t feel for ya.”

                “I know.” Hank nodded. “Perhaps…a causal thing would be more…appropriate?” he looked slightly nervous as he spoke, eyes not quite meeting Wolverine’s and seemingly all too aware of the people around them, who couldn’t help but stare and ease drop.

                Wolverine took a slow drink of his beer, a smile tucked in the corner of his mouth. “Sure, darlin’. Just hope the occasional tussle with me doesn’t earn ya any enemies from the rest of the team. I’m not exactly the favorite around there.”

                Hank nodded thoughtfully; “I’m hardly worried about idle water-cooler gossip. But, I do have to ask…how do you feel Scott factors into this?”

                Logan took a bite of his sandwich, scowling slightly. “He doesn’t.”

                “Hmm,” Hank mumbled. “If you say so.”

 

**

 

                Three long weeks passed.

                Logan stood in Hank’s shower, feeling exhausted. He was still bleeding from wounds he’d sustained earlier that day. The Juggernaut had been particularly vindictive during their skirmish, and Logan had gotten in his way…repeatedly. He’d put him through a store front window and then had pounded him so far into the foundation of the building that Hank had been the only one able to dig him out of the crater.

                Despite his healing factor, Logan knew he would have been in dire straits if it hadn’t been for a last minute save by Cyclops. A fact that the esteemed leader of their group had been relentless in pointing out.

                Logan leaned against the wall, watching blood swirl around his feet as he continued to debride his wounds to speed up the healing process. It hurt like hell, but the pain seemed to be one of the few things keeping him aware and on his feet.

                Nothing sounded better than falling into bed and sleeping right now.

                He heard the door open and hazily lifted his head when felt a rush of air following Hank’s abrupt entrance into the shower. The blue furred mutant moved through the spray , standing in front of him, looking him over with mute concern.

                Logan looked up at him tiredly and squeezed his arm reassuringly. Talking felt too strenuous. Hank reached behind him and turned off the water before grabbing Logan and lifting him up, kissing him hard before carrying him out of the shower and back into the bedroom they had been sharing off and on in the subsequent weeks.

                Neither of them said anything as Hank sat him on the edge of the bed, putting a towel around his shoulders before reaching for his doctor bag. Logan knew better than to argue with him, allowing him to inspect the rapidly healing wounds to his satisfaction.

                Eventually, Logan lifted his hand and scratched behind Hank’s ear lightly; “What’s wrong, darlin? Why the fuss?”

                Hank nuzzled into his hand, eyes closed and sighed softly. “It can wait, Logan. You’re exhausted, you need to rest, healing factor or not.”

                Wolverine eyed him steadily, “I won’t sleep until ya tell me what’s eating ya. I can see it in yer eyes, there’s something you’ve wanted to tell me for a few days now.”

                Hank frowned sadly. “I…I’ve been offered a job in Washington. As a representative and authority on Mutant Affairs in the Senate. And…I’ve accepted.” He looked crestfallen, remorseful even. But Logan plucked him closer and simply nuzzled him.

                “And you waited this long to tell me? We could have been celebratin’.”

                Beast smiled grudgingly. “It’ll take me away from New York for weeks at a time, months perhaps.”

                “So?” Logan pulled him down into the bed with him. “Go, have a great time, kick some of those anti-Mutant bigots in the ass for us.”

                “I…I don’t want you to think—“

                Logan kissed him. “Shut up. This was no strings attached, remember? We’re friends first and always. Now quit moping and go! I swear, if you’re not on a plane tomorrow, I’m gonna drag your hairy butt to D.C. myself.”

                Hank laughed warmly and nuzzled down next to him, finally relaxing now that the last remainder of Logan’s wounds had closed and he didn’t seem as disappointed as he feared.

                “As soon as I’m settled, feel free to come visit. I’ll fly you out—“

                “You know I hate planes.”

                “Fine, then I’ll pay for your gas. You’ll be taking the Harley I assume.”

                “Eh, you won’t have time for me, darlin’. You’ll be busy going to state dinners, and mingling with politicians and noble prize winners and all that.”

                “I will never be too busy for the X-Men, or you.” He kissed his forehead. “You’ll come and visit me, we’ll make a weekend of it. It’ll be scandalous I’m certain.”

                “Extremely.”

                They curled around each other in the bed as become their weekly habit and Logan quickly found the nook in Hank’s arms where he was most comfortable. His heart gave a little pang of regret; he admitted that he was starting to get attached, used to having McCoy to fall back on, to confide in. But he always knew it wouldn’t, and couldn’t last. This was the best possible end.

                But he had Hank for one more night at least. McCoy’s chin was resting on top of his head, and he could hear the Beast purring low and soft in his throat; content and perhaps a little melancholy as well. Logan listened to the sound, pushing everything else out of his mind, until his awareness slipped and he was asleep.

 

**

 

                Hank left on the first flight out that afternoon. There were plenty of farewells, apparently Scott and a few of the other senior members knew already. The goodbyes were short and sweet; everyone expected Hank to be back in no time.

                Logan hung in the background, letting the others have their moment. He and Beast had already had their private goodbye; there was no need to get sentimental and sappy about it. Still, Logan felt slightly empty, knowing he was returning to the school without the support system he’d grown accustomed to. It was another in a long line of moments that reminded Wolverine why he needed to stop letting people in, letting people get close.

                “Logan?”

                He looked up from his reviver to see Ororo Munroe, the mutant better known as Storm, approaching him through the crowded airport. She was tall, graceful and powerful, with long shock-white hair and skin the color of cocoa powder. Everything about her exuded grace, power and elegance. Wolverine was always in awe of her, the way she carried herself, the way she spoke and her prowess in battle, but they had only the briefest interactions since he’d come to Xavier’s. She was full of responsibilities ; whereas Logan seemed to do well just to keep out of trouble.

                “Are you alright, my friend?” she asked, looking at him with concern. Wolverine blinked at her a moment longer in surprise, then rolled his shoulders, casting a look back towards where the other passengers on the plane were boarding. “I’m sure Henry will be returning to us soon.”

                “It’s none of my business what he does.” Logan replied, more gruffly than he meant to. Storm studied him for a moment and nodded.

                “You know, I’m taking over for some of Henry’s classes while he’s away. And I’m afraid I have bit more than I can handle. Would you mind assisting me with some of my lessons?”

                The feral blinked, not sure if she was serious. “Me? Teach kids?”

                “You’ve done quite brilliantly with Jubilation, and even Rogue. She opens up so readily around you; she’s not that way with any other professor. And Bobby seems rather fond of you as well.”

                Logan chuckled; “Sweetheart, I’m not sure what you think I can teach these kids, other than how to take a beating. I’m really good at that.”

                Ororo continued to smile in that mysterious, sweet way she always did. “Well, think about it, and let me know if you change your mind.”

                “Wouldn’t hold your breath, darlin’.”

                She brushed her hand over his shoulder as she moved past him; “You might be worth it.”

                Logan looked back at her, not sure he had heard her right, but she was already walking away, head held high, knowing he was watching her.


End file.
